My words hung in the air.Jag’s eyes met mine, something unreadable flickering in their depths.
“She’s right,” he said quietly.“Security that feels like confinement will do more harm than good.”
Knight nodded slowly.“I’ll work with Hannah on making it less obvious.But in the meantime” -- he slid a keycard across the desk to me --”you’re staying at the compound until we neutralize this threat.That’s not a request, Ada.”
I expected to feel resentment at being ordered around, even by my brother.Instead, the weight of the situation, of seeing myself being watched without knowing it, settled in my chest like a stone.
“I won’t argue,” I said, taking the keycard.“I’ve been thinking about moving closer to the shelter anyway.This just speeds up the timeline.”
Relief flashed across Knight’s face, quickly masked by his usual gruff expression.“Good.You’ll take the unit two doors down from Jag.It’s ready.”
My eyes flicked to Jag, finding him already watching me.Something electric passed between us, brief but undeniable.His jaw tightened, and he looked away.
I nodded.“Sounds good,” I answered softly.
When the meeting was dismissed, I headed to the building I’d been assigned to and stepped inside the lift.My shoulders tensed with the weight of everything I’d just learned.The keycard dug into my palm where I’d been clutching it too hard.Rat Man.A disgusting image for a disgusting man.Now he watched me, had followed me without my knowledge.The thought made my skin crawl, yet somehow I felt more angry than afraid.No one had the right to hunt me.
I stepped off the lift into the hallway.I needed a moment to myself, to process everything without the intensity of my brother breathing down my neck.Or Jag.Strangely, his gaze had been on me every time I glanced his way since Knight showed the footage of me being followed.Given I had a stalker I hadn’t known about, his attention should probably creep me out.Instead, I felt protected, like he was watching out for me whether I wanted him to or not.If it had been anyone other than someone in Kiss of Death, I’d have run from the compound at the first opportunity.But the club Jag knew and the club I knew were vastly different, even if they were the same club.
I was nearly to my room when I sensed rather than heard someone behind me.A presence, nothing more.I spun around, not sure what to expect.Jag stood three steps behind me, his expression unreadable.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathed, my hand pressed against my chest.“Make a noise next time.”
“Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound particularly apologetic.“Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t scare me,” I lied.“Just… startled me.I mean, after that meeting and all.”
“I’ll walk you to your room,” he said, his voice low and rough.Not a request.Not quite an order either.
Before I could respond, his fingers circled my wrist, surprisingly gentle despite the calluses that rasped against my skin.The touch sent an unexpected current up my arm, making my breath catch.His thumb rested against my pulse point, and I knew he could feel my heartbeat quicken beneath his touch.
“I know where it is,” I said, the words coming out softer than I intended.
“I know you do.”His eyes held mine.“I’m still walking you.”
Jag released my wrist but stayed beside me, close enough that our arms occasionally brushed.Each brief contact sent little sparks across my skin.I found I wanted to “accidentally” tangle my fingers with his just to see what he’d do.
I stole a glance at his profile.His jaw was tense, a muscle jumping beneath the stubble.Whatever was happening between us, he felt it too.The keycard in my hand felt hot, a reminder of why I was headed to temporary quarters instead of back to my own home.Because someone was watching me.Because I might be in danger.
We reached my assigned room, a door identical to all the others in this section of the compound.I slid the keycard into the lock, pushing the door open to the one-bedroom apartment.I’d helped them finish the inside of a few of them.Truthfully, I’d often considered asking Knight if he’d let me stay at the compound with him.I hadn’t lied when I’d told him that earlier.It had just never been the right time.Looked like fate had decided I’d waited long enough.
“Home, sweet home,” I murmured, stepping inside.I turned to thank Jag for the escort, words already forming on my lips.
They never made it out.
Jag moved suddenly, with a speed and grace I wouldn’t have expected from a man his size.One moment he was standing in the doorway, the next he had backed me against the wall beside the door, one hand braced beside my head.His eyes locked with mine, a fierce question burning in them for just a heartbeat.
Then his mouth was on mine, hard and hungry.Nothing gentle about it.His body pressed against mine, solid and warm, pinning me to the wall.My surprise lasted only a second before I responded, my hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer rather than pushing him away.
The kiss was electric, desperate, like a man who’d been starving.His free hand came up to cradle my face, the gentleness of the gesture a stark contrast to the intensity of his mouth on mine.I tasted need on his lips, felt the tension in every muscle of his body as it pressed against mine.My head spun with the suddenness of it, with the raw emotion behind it.This wasn’t calculated or planned.This was pure instinct, a dam breaking after too much pressure.
Then, just as abruptly, Jag pulled back.His breathing was ragged, his eyes wide with something that looked almost like fear.Confusion crossed his face, followed by a flash of regret so brief I might have imagined it.He stepped away from me as if burned, his hands dropping to his sides.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.“I’m… sorry.”He turned and walked away, his strides quick and purposeful.I remained against the wall, one hand rising slowly to touch my lips where I could still feel the pressure of his.My pulse hammered in my throat, my breathing ragged.
As I watched him disappear around the corner, a small smile formed on my lips.I suspected I understood what had just happened better than he did.A man who’d been locked away from human contact for nearly forty years, suddenly confronted with feelings and instincts he didn’t know how to process.He was running from himself, not me.But something told me he wouldn’t be able to run for long.
Chapter Five
